Long Hard Times to Come
by Carleen
Summary: Did you know Sarah Palmer was there on Circinius IV when the Covenant attacked? You didn't? The evolution of John-117 and Sarah Palmer's relationship when they first meet briefly at Corbulo Academy until the day they recognize each other from the past on board The UNSC Infinity after Cortana's tragic sacrifice.
1. Long Hard Times to Come Chapter 1

TITLE: Long Hard Times to Come

CHAPTER: 1, On This Lonely Road

* * *

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some_

_I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy_

_You try to Bogart—fall back, I go hard_

_~0~_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome—pissed off, who wants some_

_I see them long hard times to come_

The Theme for the TV Show "Justified", Performed by Gangstagrass

* * *

Once quartered on Reach, the UNSC's ODST School had relocated after the planet's destruction by Covenant troops. The UNSC had understandably taken its time finding another planet with equally harsh weather and even harsher terrain.

While these might be mandatory conditions for UNSC Special Operations training, the older soldiers made a habit of reassuring the younger students just how easy they had it now. Back in the day, they claimed Reach trained soldiers into real Hell Jumpers. The way they told it Reach could kill a man if he stood in one place for too long. The students disagreed.

Between the icy lake water, which hovered most of the year at 50 degrees, the rocky and steep terrain, fluctuating humidity and nasty vampire-like insects that could suck you dry, they get plenty of misery, thank you very much.

Oh-five-hundred on a cloudy Monday morning, fifty trainees stood silently in the driving rain. At attention for the last two hours, the trainees endured the 110-degree heat and 100% humidity with stoic intensity. They could no longer feel the difference between the sweat on their skin or the rain soaking their utility uniforms; easy duty compared to the formal training.

They also had other things on their minds that helped take the edge off. Today marked the end of their formal training and many of them had failed to reach their potential. By the end of the duty day, at least half of these volunteers would head home, washed out of the most intense training program in the UNSC. There was no shame in this failure, no black mark on their record. Not everyone could withstand the rigors of ODST Training. It was crucial that you tried. And what if you made it to the end and still washed out? At least you still had good stories to tell at the Officer's Club on Saturday night.

The lone female of the group, a diminutive Marine with long sable colored hair - which she stubbornly refused to cut - and matching brown eyes, wasn't worried about washing out. She was the best shot and the best tactician. What she lacked in actual physical strength, compared to the men, she made up for in courage, bravado, and intelligence.

At this moment, she was thinking back to a night four years ago. The rain and humidity ceased to register on her senses as she sifted through the memories. Powerfully built, impossibly tall, and obviously brave, the mysterious Spartan she met that night had not been far from her thoughts since those hours at Corbulo Academy.

The training officer interrupted her musings by shouting into her face.

"Lieutenant Palmer! Would you care to join us?"

That he'd sneaked up on her only added to the embarrassment of catching her daydreaming. She yanked her attention back to the present.

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!"

"Did I ask for an apology?"

"No, sir!"

"Is there somewhere else you'd rather be? Home with Mommy and Daddy?"

He was standing so close to her now, she could feel the light spray of his spital on her face. She didn't dare turn her head.

"No sir!"

"Maybe you're daydreaming about one of your fellow trainees. Each one of them has five buddies who'd give their right nut to be ODST. Maybe it's time you moved aside for one of them. What do you think little Sarah, you think you got what it takes to be a Hell Jumper?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Know what, little Sarah? You're not very big. Maybe when you grow up you can be a Spartan. How does that sound to you?"

That got a chuckle from the trainees. He continued as he had all along with his attempt to break her. She continued to hold her ground, and it infuriated him. Then Sarah Palmer lifted her eyes to the training officer's face.

"Maybe I'll do that, sir."

His eyes bulged out of their sockets slightly. The spray turned into drops.

"For smart mouthing your training officer you can lead these magnificent specimens of manhood over the obstacle course. Don't let them beat you to the finish line or you'll have to start all over again. GET THAT CUTE LITTLE MARINE ASS OF YOURS THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT. MOVE!"

Ignoring the moaning and groaning of her classmates behind her. Twenty-year-old Sarah Palmer headed for the first obstacle. So angry with herself for daydreaming and worse at being caught, she cursed in frustration as she sprinted to the first obstacle.

Childish is what it was. Try as she might she could not forget him. She'd spent just a few hours with one of those Spartans. At the time, she hadn't known exactly what he was. Four years later, she still caught herself watching for that tall man whenever she noticed a group of Spartans. It was a chance encounter, nothing more. They'd saved each other's lives that dark night. In fact, if it hadn't been for him, she'd have been just another cadet swept into the bloodbath of the invasion.

After watching her fellow cadets die at the hands of those Covenant Troops, she'd vowed to kill every single alien soldier who crossed her path or appeared in the cross hairs of her scope. Just to make sure none did she chose to sharp shooter as her specialty.

She set goals for herself, based on what she'd witnessed that horrific night. She intended to become nothing less than the best of the best.

It was that night and the Spartan's actions, which drove her to perfect her skills, become the perfect Marine, and expert sniper. In just a few hours, she would graduate, third in her class, an ODST; a Hell Jumper.

She bounded over the wall and swung from the rope across the filthy water. Behind her, she heard one of her classmates swear when his hands slipped off the slimy rope. Palmer chuckled and doubled her speed to the next obstacle. She hit the lower rung and began to climb the wood frame structure.

Although she had tried to help the other cadets that gruesome night; their youth and lack of experience proved inadequate to the task of holding off a full-fledged alien attack. What they hadn't known was the entire planet was under attack and falling quickly into the hands of those alien soldiers. Knowledge; which hadn't stopped the guilt over her inability to save at least one cadet.

The memories came back again as she ran to the next obstacle. Dodging a spray of Needler fire, Cadet Palmer dove for cover behind a boxwood hedge. The purple shards impacted a wall and sent down a chunk on her back.

She bit down on the groan of pain when the concrete ripped open her t-shirt and tore open her flesh. When she could open her eyes, it was to the sight of the once beautiful courtyard of Corbulo Academy. The cruel sounds of screaming were the first auditory senses that she absorbed. And the sight of mutilated bodies the first visual she absorbed. The central fountain ran red with the blood of her classmates. The neat lawn and pristine sidewalks were equally gruesome; streaked with gore. The statue of the famous Roman general had been reduced to a smoking pile of slag. The buildings burned with the eerie light of plasma fires.

There were just too many of them. Outflanked and outgunned, the school was not prepared to meet such a threat. As Cadet Palmer backed into cover, searching for survivors and picking up discarded weapons as she went, she found herself retreating into the woods.

She wished at least one more person had made it out with her. Instead, she was alone inside the silent columns of trees. A fog made up of smoke from the fires rises to her knees. The effect renders the area ghostly, and the silence is suddenly much worse than the screams. She can't be the only one who made it out alive. She can't be... Freshman Cadet Sarah Palmer was sixteen years old.

Lights in the distance! She ran for them the moment that her brain registered what they were. About a mile from the campus, she tripped over a tree branch and fell headlong into the mud.

Her fall prevented the Hunter, who stood silently listening to her approach from accurately locating her position. Palmer saw him, though, and nearly screamed in surprise. What were these creatures, she wondered wiping the worst of the mud from her face. What had provoked the attack? She wished again that an instructor or even an upperclassman might find her. They needed to form up, prepare a defensive posture.

In a flash of the headlights of a vehicle, she saw other cadets, her sharp eyes identifying them as upperclassmen.

One of the young men was running. While she tried to make sense of what she was seeing, a very tall man catapulted himself onto the shoulder of the giant alien. The sight stopped her in her tracks. How could any human move like that? She watched him reach for something on his belt. She could see for herself that there was nothing there. He began to reach for his combat knife when she called out.

"Soldier! Here!" Cadet Palmer tossed two frag grenades up to the armored man. He nodded his thanks and shouted down to her.

"Run for the Pelican, Cadet. Two clicks due east. Go!"

A freshman cadet is accustomed to following orders. She did as she'd been ordered and headed down the road, leaving the Warthog and the people behind. The grenades exploded, sending orange goo fifty feet in all directions. The concussion travelled even further and knocked her to the ground. She heard the Hunter roar as it died. Had the tall armored man survived?

'The lights, Sarah. Run for the lights.' She picked herself up and moved through the forest wondering whom that giant man was. Marvelling at how he had so bravely jumped onto the thing to kill it. That was the bravest action she had ever seen. But, who was he?

Footsteps to her left. She whirled. Small chattering creatures charged toward her. The magnum pistols in her hands were nearly spent. The first bullet landed between the eyes of the first Grunt. The last bullet cleaved a hole through the second one's head. One of the creatures was trying to flank her. She swung her arm with all her strength and smashed his head in with the butt of the magnum in her right hand. Thick purple blood washed over her hand, staining the hand grip. Adrenaline surged through her already geared up posture; she was ready to take every one of them down.

The remaining two continued their chattering charge toward her. She didn't notice the grenades in their hands until they were almost on her. She turned to run only to find her feet leave the ground as someone lifted her with an arm around her waist. Her peripheral vision watched an assault rifle as long as her leg let fly a string of bullets ripping the creatures apart.

Then he turned toward her to shield her from the grenade blast.

It was the armored man! She held onto the chest plates of his armor with both hands.

"Cadet!" Then, with a quieter voice he continued while looking down into her dirty face and closed eyes. "We must move. They are waiting for us at the LZ."

She wasn't afraid; not exactly. Hiding her face against his armor and hanging on to the chest plate, she felt safe for the first time since this nightmare began.

"Cadet, pull yourself together."

In a moment that was so brief it was more the promise of a touch than the real thing he pulled her hands away and set her down on her feet.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'm fine."

_"Chief! The warthog showed up without you. Where are you?"_

"On my way, Kelly. Picked up a straggler."

He was gratified to watch her pride flare. Straightening her shoulders, she squared off in front of him. She tried to stare into his visor, with her brown eyes blazing in anger and determination. With a flick of her hands, she bunched up her long hair and tied it into a knot at the back of her head. He hadn't worried that she was afraid. Someone who was panicking wouldn't have the presence of mind to toss him those two grenades. Along with calmly killing those three Grunts, whether she realized it or not, she'd probably saved his life.

"A straggler? I'm a freshman cadet at Corbulo Military Academy."

He acknowledged her claim with a curt nod. "Show me what you've learned, Cadet. Get us to the evac zone." He motioned with his hand, inviting her to move out and indicating that she take point in the now clear path to their waiting escape from the planet.

* * *

watch?v=yT2i2UylxJ0

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some_

_I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy_

_You try to Bogart-fall back, I go hard_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some_

_I see them long hard times to come_

_Verse 1:_

_My life is ill son... prepared to kill son_

_A paradox of pain, baby; it's real son_

_Lonely traveler, ain't trying to battle ya_

_But if you're feeling tuff dog, I welcome all challengers_

_Ain't got no family, you see there's one of me_

_Might lose your pulse standing two feet in front of me_

_I'm pissed at the world, but I ain't looking for trouble_

_I might crack a grin, I aint looking to hug you_

_Think about it, nobody wants to die_

_There's rules to this game son, I'm justified_

_I'm ready to go partner, hey I'm on the run_

_The devils hugging on my boots that's why I own a gun_

_This journey's too long, I'm looking for some answers_

_So much time stressing, I forget the questions_

_I fear no man, you don't want no problems 'B'_

_Eyes in the back of my head, you better not follow me_

_[Chorus]_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off who wants some_

_I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy_

_You try to Bogart-fall back, I go hard_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some_

_I see them long hard times to come_

_Verse 2:_

_You probably think I'm crazy, or got some loose screws_

_But that's alright though-I'm a'do me, you do you_

_So how you judging me? I'm just trying to survive_

_And if the time comes, I aint trying to die_

_I'm just trying to fly, and get a little love_

_Find me a dime piece and get a little hug_

_Hook the car up-hit the bar up-clean the scars up-hey yo, the stars up_

_Hey this is the life of an outlaw_

_We aint promised tomorrow-I'm living now, dog_

_I'm walking through life. but yo my feet hurt_

_All my blessings are fed, man I'll rest when I'm dead_

_Look through my eyes and see the real world_

_Take a walk with me, have a talk with me_

_Where we end up-god only knows_

_Strap your boots on tight you might be alright_

_[Chorus]_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome pissed off who wants some_

_I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy_

_You try to Bogart fall back I go hard_

_On this lonely road, trying to make it home_

_Doing it by my lonesome pissed off who wants some_

_I see them long hard times to come_


	2. Long Hard Times to Come Chapter 2

TITLE: Long Hard Times to Come

CHAPTER: 2, No Matter What

AN: I'm morphing canon and timeline to pull the story together. If "Forward Unto Dawn" can show Fred and Kelly as kids and Master Chief as a grown man, then I can take a few liberties of my own. Many thanks and Spartan Smiles to my betas "Andrithir" and "A-01"

* * *

No matter what they call us

However they attack

No matter where they take us

We'll find our own way back

Andrew Lloyd Webber, No Matter What from _Whistle Down the Wind_

* * *

The normal radio chatter was ominously absent as the Pelican drop ships rushed back to the _Pillar of Autumn_. No one dared speak the obvious; humanity is under attack by alien invaders. Harvest went first, attacked and destroyed without warning. On that shocking day, the military added 'glassed' to their vocabulary. After destroying everyone and everything, they reached down from space and boiled the planet's surface until it resembled glass.

Then Reach fell, and today, Circinius IV. The senior leaders, who knew their history, whispered the old German word Blitzkrieg amongst themselves. These invaders and their methods generated horror wherever they went.

Once the surviving ODST, Marines, and soldiers were safely aboard, and their injuries tended the ritual began. The soldiers repeat a tradition that is thousands of years old. They know that, in just a few hours, they will go back to the planet. There are resources to save and survivors to locate. To keep up their spirits, they joked, they teased, and they boasted about their exploits. They told each other stories about what they saw down there. They argued about who had the most kills and who slacked off –the standard soldier bravado that carried them through-.

Those who could get some food down and grabbed rack time. Most didn't seek sleep, for they knew that's where the nightmares lived. If this were their time to die, then they would do it with their eyes open and take at least one of those bastards with them. A civilian who overheard their conversation would flee in revulsion and disbelief at the gallows humor. If asked, the soldiers might shrug and reply that civilians never understood about war anyway.

Three of the surviving Corbulo Academy cadets sat huddled together under a blanket, wide-eyed and mindlessly sipping hot coffee to avert their recent shock.

"Where do you think they'll take us?" Normally strong and fearless, April Orenski's shaky and tearful tone spoke of all their fears.

Cadet Sullivan shared her question, but didn't dare open his mouth. If he did, he thought that he might start crying and never be able to stop. Thomas Lasky was close to shock as he tried to assimilate the last six hours and all they had seen and heard. Then he remembered that tall man, the one with 117 on his armor. He'd been carrying a young woman in his arms as he followed them aboard. Another survivor? Yes, his shell-shocked mind answered, it was another cadet. He wondered if she were okay. They should stick together. After squeezing April's hand, he shared a look with Sully and went in search of their classmate.

The two Spartans, Kelly-087, and John-117 didn't speak while Kelly tended the young cadet's injuries. Neither was ready to discuss what they witnessed tonight on Circinius IV or the reality it brought to their immediate world.

Many people, especially the politicians who deftly reassured their constituents, felt what happened on Harvest was a one-time incident. Alien raiders, they explained, looking for loot. They presented neither a problem, nor threat. Nothing to worry about, those monsters were subdued and vanquished through the superior firepower of the UNSC. Nothing to worry about, they said, under the protection of the military presence of the UNSC, humanity is safe.

As the Pelicans broke the atmosphere and fled into space, Master Chief watched Circinius IV burn from an aft view screen. A groan from the bed turned his attention to the small bio bed.

While John watched Kelly efficiently clean off the dirt and dress the cadet's wounds, he began to notice other things about the cadet. For a young woman to be accepted into Corbulo Academy, she would have needed exemplary academic scores and superior physical abilities. That was a sharp contrast to the vulnerable, even fragile, looking woman lying there. With her long hair, porcelain skin and dark brown eyes, she was pretty in a way that made you feel she needed protection. An odd contrast from the young woman on the bed to the future solider.

Pretty? Now where had that come from? John mentally shook himself. Looking down into her pale face, he wondered if she would recover from the trauma and the injuries. He had to ask.

"Bad?"

Kelly sat back on her heels, "Once I got her cleaned up I found a fractured hand and ankle. There's a gash, which required stitches, on her forehead. She may have fallen while she ran through the woods. I cleaned out a deep contusion on her back.

"She broke her hand hitting a Grunt hard enough to kill it. Showed no sign of broken bones… or fear."

Kelly nodded, "She's obviously tough."

"Tough as you, Rabbit." The Spartan commented affectionately using Kelly's nickname. "I watched her. She was ready to take on the whole army."

Kelly climbed to her feet. "I'm going to check on the other three cadets. See if you can get those weapons out of her hands? She's got a damn death grip on 'em."

Kelly stood up and headed toward the front of the aircraft, then stopped and turned. With the helmet off, her youth showed on her face and in the depth of unrestrained emotion in her yearning blue eyes.

"John?"

Her voice, which held a tone he'd never heard from her before brought him from the bio bed to her side in two strides. "Are you injured?"

She shook her head, "No," then for extra bravado she certainly didn't feel added, "I'm fine."

"Kelly?" He placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from leaving.

"I'm fine. I'll go see to those cadets now," and removing her hands from his too quickly for good manners, she hurried away.

As he watched her leave, he remembered a time when they were children. Kelly had missed dinner, and he'd been sent to find her. When he finally did — and it surprised him that it took so long because he knew her hiding places — he noticed she'd been crying. He knew how much she missed her family, so he did the only thing he could think of and sat down next to her. After a moment, and a great deal of thought on the subject, he put his arm around her.

"John, I-I want to go home."

"I know, Kelly."

They'd had the rare treat of cookies for dessert at dinner that night. The other kids had eaten theirs quickly, stuffing them down and licking their fingers. John had put his in his pocket and just now as he felt Kelly lean against him, searching for comfort, he was happy that he'd saved her two cookies, as well.

"Here."

The grateful smile she bestowed on him warmed him to his toes. He decided he liked the happy feeling it created in his chest. They stayed that way until lights out, leaning against each other and enjoying their treat one tiny bite at a time.

The cadet moved and groaned again. He admonished himself for allowing the distraction. It was then he noticed she was silently watching him. Pulling up a chair next to the bed, he considered what to do. Although, he was almost certain the magnums were empty. It wouldn't do for her to start firing if he surprised her. _Sarah._ She'd told him that her name was Sarah.

"Sarah?" He said quietly calling out her name. There wasn't time to babysit cadets. Blue team needed to be back to the Pillar of Autumn to debrief the attack. It wasn't common knowledge and certainly not released to the public, but this was the third attack of these Covenant soldiers. The Insurrectionists would take a back seat to this new threat. While he touched her arm, he wondered if this would pull humanity together. They would require a united front to defend against those monsters he saw tonight.

"Cadet, we must treat your broken hand. Release the pistols to me." Perhaps, he should he say, please?

"No."

Cadet… Sarah, you're safe. I know you're not frightened. You're in shock. The weapons… please."

"What is happening?" Cadet Palmer launched herself up, only making it as far as the impenetrable wall of John-117's chest. He'd already locked his hands around her wrists. "Let me go. I have to get back to the school. I have to help… I have to."

"Sarah Palmer, listen. Open your eyes, now." His words were forceful enough to get her to open her eyes. What he saw there was not quite sane. "I am capable of removing those weapons from you. I do not wish to injure further."

She continued to fight him. "Let me go. I have to get back. What are you? What was that giant thing? Let me go." Struggling in his embrace, until she finally ran out of strength and the pain from her injuries overrode her desire to escape. A long sigh went out of her and John took the opportunity to slip the magnum pistols from her hands.

"Wait."

John heard the exhaustion in her voice. It would be a long, long time before they could rest.

"I want to keep those."

He cocked his head at her. "Why?"

The weapons were filthy with blood and dirt. The once shiny metal scratched. By the look of them, they weren't even safe to fire anymore.

"Because I want them to remind me of today; so I won't forget… never forget."

When she sagged in his arms, he laid her back down on the bed. "We won't forget, Sarah."

"And I'll be a part of it," she said softly, but with absolute conviction. He didn't doubt her words. He became aware of her fingers slipping through his.

He stared down at her seeking fingers, then jerked his hand away. "Don't."

"What is your name? Who are you?" She tugged at his sleeve, expecting an answer.

"No one." John-117 stood, happy to be getting away from this young woman. She made him feel uncomfortable, and he wasn't accustomed to it. "Your classmates wish to see you."

"Will I see you again?"

This question genuinely puzzled him. He frowned at her and shook his head, "Why would you want to?"

Ignoring the other cadets standing in the doorway, the Spartan headed to the armory, where he tucked the magnum pistols away in his pack. Once they were back on the _Pillar of Autumn_, he planned to look at them when he had some down time.

Kelly joined him while he checked and secured his own weapons. Oddly silent, she worked quickly and then almost got away.

"Kelly?"

Wishing that she had never begun this conversation in the first place, she knew he wouldn't let her leave without an explanation. With a deep breath and a small voice, eyes everywhere but on his face, she began.

"When the Warthog came back without you… I felt... No, I felt nothing. I was totally focused on the mission. Emotions aren't in our job description, are they?" She chuckled, trying to make light of what she now realized was an unprofessional emotional lapse.

John-117 allowed his hands to slide down her arms until he held her hands in his. They'd known each other since childhood. Managed to stay friends through the awkward years of adolescence and made a terrific fighting team.

In a voice so quiet only another Spartan could hear it, he tipped her chin up with a finger, "Say it, Kelly. Say it for both of us."

"Y-You once said no one could touch me because I was so fast." A blush stained her pale cheeks. "But — I —wish— sometimes — I want"

The sound of a klaxon drew them suddenly apart and set them in motion. From the _Pillar of Autumn's_ speakers came the announcement.

"THIS IS NOT A DRILL— GENERAL QUARTERS —ALL HANDS BATTLE STATIONS — THIS IS NOT A DRILL — INBOUND DROP SHIPS PREPARE FOR COMBAT LANDING. REPEAT— INBOUND DROP SHIPS PREPARE FOR COMBAT LANDING.

Their pilot followed by, "Strap in, Spartan's. We're going for a ride." As if to accentuate his warming the Pelican's airframe shook, and she yawed sharply.

* * *

No matter what they tell us  
No matter what they do  
No matter what they teach us  
What we believe is true

No matter what they call us  
However they attack  
No matter where they take us  
We'll find our own way back

I can't deny what I believe  
I can't be what I'm not  
I know our love's forever  
I know no matter what

If only tears were laughter  
If only night was day  
If only prayers were answered  
Then we would hear God say

No matter what they tell you  
No matter what they do  
No matter what they teach you  
What you believe is true

And I will keep you safe and strong  
And sheltered from the storm  
No matter where it's barren  
A dream is being born

No matter who they follow  
No matter where they lead  
No matter how they judge us  
I'll be everyone you need

No matter if the sun don't shine  
Or if the skies aren't blue  
No matter what the ending  
My life began with you

I can't deny what I believe  
I can't be what I'm not  
I know this love's forever  
That's all that matters now  
No matter what

No, no matter what

Andrew Lloyd Webber, No Matter What, from _Whistle Down the Wind_: watch?v=0Tmbu7T2Xso


	3. Long Hard Times to Come Chapter 3

TITLE: Long Hard Times to Come

CHAPTER: 3, As the Miller Told His Tale

* * *

Her face at first just ghostly... turned a whiter shade of pale. _A Whiter Shade of Pale_, Procol Harem

* * *

The Captain called for General Quarters and prepared himself to wait. Although his crew saw only the calm exterior of their commanding officer. His churning gut and impatience is something he took great pains to conceal. It took a great leader and a well-trained crew who followed orders to achieve success. Far from alone in this system, they'd so far been able to keep their distance from the other Covenant ships by holding a course that kept the planet between them and certain death.

Rescue operations and troop deployment had been going smoothly until now. Resisting the impulse to swear long and loud, he clenched his teeth together instead; pumping his blood pressure up a few points in the process.

"Captain, confirmed. Three Covenant corvettes. Dropping in from Slip space. ETA, three minutes. Sensors on full sweep."

Completely out matched now, he can only resume rescue operations, get them to a safe location and await further orders. He hopes they send him back to Circinius IV so they can have their shot at blowing these monsters into dark space.

The Captain nodded to order the bridge crew to prep for a Slipspace jump. He couldn't risk the ship. One hundred Marines were on the planet. Pelicans were inbound. Dammit. Damn those freaks to hell. He'd stay and fight before he abandoned his people. If only he could. His fingers closed into fists, but he locks his hands behind his back to hide it.

His brusque tone is the only clue to his inner state. "Get those Pelicans on board. No one is left behind."

An almost silent sigh of satisfaction went out over the bridge. Then, with calm efficiency his crew returned to their jobs. The helmsman and navigator plot their new course. The flight controllers ring out the crash vehicles and the emergency response teams take a position. In just a few moments, the _Pillar of Autumn_ is turned toward her new heading, the hangar bay doors opened and the Pelicans formed up to execute combat landing procedures.

Like the birds they had been named from the gunships pulled into formation. Their final turn to begins a long arcing path to create the smallest target area possible toward the safe haven of _Pillar'_.

Against the backdrop of their graceful formation three corvettes dropped out of Slipspace.

They were out of time. The Captain said a silent prayer and called for a Slipspace jump in thirty seconds, begin the countdown on his mark.

"Skipper, the last two Pelicans need another twenty seconds."

He couldn't risk it. Captain Keyes slammed his fist into the star map. These were the kind of decisions a commanding officer had to make; deciding who lived and who died. It never got any easier. He'd heard a saying once, forgot where, but 'The brutal calculus of war' fit this moment perfectly.

"You heard me, Lieutenant. Thirty seconds. Mark."

"Sir, it's the Spartans and the remaining cadets," the officer's voice held a note of pleading. They both turned toward the sound of another announcement.

"Captain, the corvettes have opened fire on the Pelicans. Direct hit, it's Gunship nine-sixer, sir."

The ship foundered, began to spin, then somehow righted itself. The bridge crew stared at each other in disbelief at the piloting skills they'd just witnessed.

Master Chief's voice boomed over the bridge. "John-117 to _Pillar of Autumn_. We are taking fire. The cockpit is open to space. I have taken over the controls. Pelican nine six-er, requesting emergency landing. Barrier. Barrier. Barrier."

"He's out of his mind. Delay the order for Slipspace. Get the goddamn barrier up. Prepare for crash landing."

In the cockpit, Master Chief forced the crippled ship to his will. His peripheral vision noticed the pilot's body moving as Kelly sat down and strapped herself into the co-pilot's chair.

_"Kelly."_

"Don't bother to say it, John," she commented as she buckled herself in and took control of the guns. "Everyone is strapped in and safe back there. I can help up here. You know I can."

"Petty Officer, we're gonna have a long talk..."

"...Oh, come on. This'll be a great ride in. The gun is armed and ready. Step on it!"

The sudden beeping that blared from the Pelican's radar, caused them to look down to see that six Seraphs are tailing them.

"We've got company!" Kelly informed, glancing at the Master Chief who had his focus dead set at the stick.

Years of training taught him to remain calm with a cool head, even when he's surrounded. The beeping then switched to an alarm screaming at the pilot as one of the Seraphs had a confirmed target lock on them. A white dot on the screen flashed and was speeding towards their tail.

"Incoming!" Kelly yelled at his side.

Chief yanked the controls, causing the Pelican to do a barrel roll to the right at breakneck speeds, allowing the screeching missile to streak past them, missing by a few meters.

John puts the Pelican into a tight spin and nosed over toward the hangar bay.

"The door is closing!"

"I can see that," John growled. "Pay attention to the Seraphs behind us and I'll watch the door."

Kelly-087 swung the gun aft and began firing. Through Kelly's skills they left a trail of explosions behind them as they hurtled toward the_ Pillar of Autumn._

As the Pelican hit the deck and skidded into the barrier, the last Pelican landed. Landing gears extended, the Pelican soared through the hangar and slammed onto the deck. Emergency brakes screeched as metal was being burned away, showering the landing strip with sparks. The tires fared no better, the intense heat having torn off the carbon tubes.

"We're in," Kelly breathed.

The hangar doors closed as the _Pillar of Autumn_ made the final preparation to enter Slipspace and disappeared.

A few minutes later, in a small utility closet Kelly was on her hands and knees trying very hard not to throw up. Master Chief stood next to her waiting for her to settle herself.

"I warned you."

"I wanted to… help me get this helmet off!"

He'd already flipped the seals open and lifted it from her head. She could run like the wind and fight like a tiger, but she'd always been prone to motion sickness. A fact they'd managed to keep hidden from their trainers and especially Halsey and the Chief. When she turned her pale face up to his, John shook his head at her.

"Don't say it. Just don't."

"You might as well get it over with, Rabbit. I'll stay with you."

"That was some flying you did out there... Oh, John! Uuuughh!"

The contents of her stomach hit the sink. John held her shoulders until her sickness resolved itself.

"You're only a year younger than me and sometimes you still act like a child," he admonished her gently, helping her rinse out her mouth. She'd admired his flying without giving herself credit for taking out the entire group of Seraphs before they'd landed. They made a good team. A fact he acknowledged by squeezing her shoulders.

She blew out a long breath and relaxed against his hands. Kelly knew perfectly well she shouldn't have sat in the cockpit, but she wanted to experience the ride in. It was exhilarating, watching John control the aircraft and, until this moment, loved every minute of it.

The Spartan looked around, they were still alone. He'd followed Kelly to a side room, where she'd found a utility sink. This still wasn't right.

"Kelly stop," he tried to push her away, but she held on with her arms around his waist. Their armor prevented most emotional displays and certainly wasn't meant for sharing an embrace. Still, he lost the battle and shoved his hands over her short hair, tilting her head back.

"Kelly, I know things between us have changed. I know…"

"I saw you looking at me the other day in the showers. I wondered if you liked what you…"

"... Stop, now. We are Spartans not a couple of teenagers with the leisure time to…

"But we are teenagers."

John dropped his hands at his sides and stepped back.

"I understand," she held up her hands. "Don't think I don't. I just wanted to feel something," her voice wavered and she took a long breath, "for one damn minute, besides death." Then she suddenly smiled up at him and headed for the door. "I'd better get cleaned up before we're redeployed to Circinius IV."

"You are the most beautiful thing in my world," he whispered, with only the empty utility room to hear his confession.

"Spartan-117? Please respond." Someone is calling him over the ship's communications system.

"Master Chief."

"Sir, this is the armory. Could you come down here please? I've got four cadets from Corbulo Academy who want to know when we plan to redeploy back to Circinius IV. Uh, sir? They're demanding armor and weapons issue. I don't want to bother the Skipper with this… so…"

"On my way."

* * *

"The brutal calculus of war." Commander Shepard, Mass Effect 3

_A Whiter Shade of Pale_, Procol Harem

We skipped the light fandango  
And turned cartwheels 'cross the floor  
I was feeling kind of seasick  
But the crowd called out for more  
The room was humming harder  
As the ceiling flew away  
When we called out for another drink  
The waiter brought a tray

And so it was that later  
As the miller told his tale  
That her face, at first just ghostly  
Turned a whiter shade of pale

She said there is no reason  
And the truth is plain to see  
But I wandered through my playing cards  
Would not let her be  
One of sixteen vestal virgins  
Who were leaving for the coast  
And although my eyes were open  
They might just as well have been closed

And so it was that later  
As the miller told his tale  
That her face, at first just ghostly  
Turned a whiter shade of pale

you tube watch?v=St6jyEFe5WM


End file.
